A Festival to Remember

In town alone for the exciting festival week, you’re invited to have supper with a group of people you met on the bus coming down. They’re a warm, friendly bunch, one man is evidently their leader, though he’s not loud and obnoxious like a couple of the others are. One in particular is insufferable, thinks highly of himself and the others treat him with a deference that seems more distance than affection. They call him Rocky, sometimes Rock for short. Unlike Rocky, his brother Drew is quiet, reserved, seems quite shy.

One of the young men, Jim, may be Josh’s brother. Watching the group, you observe that Josh is the leader. That’s his name: Josh.

Another pair of brothers in the group are boisterous and competitive -- especially with each other, but also among the others, always having to have the last word. Jacob and Ian, they may be twins, you’re not sure, and you can’t remember which is which because for the life of you, you can’t tell them apart. Nice enough guys, but so intent on outdoing each other that a psychologist might say they’ve been fighting for attention all their lives, almost like Jacob and Esau. Someone in the group said they used to be fishermen, working with their father.

Anyway, there’s more than half a bus load of them, seems mainly a men’s group of some sort, about a dozen men, but several with wives or girlfriends along; and three or four unattached young women who are especially attentive to Josh -- including one he calls Maria, who never takes her eyes off him, and he’s obviously very much aware of her too. Well, they are human beings, aren’t they, male and female he made them!

Two or three older women along on the bus, probably widows -- one of them Josh’s mother. Otherwise, the people seem to be serious young adults going to the holy festival, not a bunch of college kids raising hell on spring break.

Except for Levi Matthews, the young man they call Matt, who obviously is well-educated, he can read and write, and do sums and calculations, the others are all blue collar, most of them speak with an accent that marks them as common working class. They’re not your usual type of friends, but they are warm and friendly and welcoming, hospitable; and so, rather than eating the holiday meal alone and lonely, you accept their urging to meet them at the inn where they plan to celebrate and have the meal. 

Arriving at the inn, you see that they have a private room upstairs, for which you are glad, because they are boisterous, drawing attention to themselves, sometimes embarrassing you at being with them. Almost immediately you arrive, you begin to have second thoughts about coming though. For one thing, there’s tension in the air, but maybe it’s just excitement of the festival. 

And there’s Jude: you noticed him earlier on the bus, he never smiles -- standoffish and superior, seems to regard the others with contempt, always a subtle sneer on his face. His name is Jude Israel and he seems to come from what Professor Harold Bloom at Yale calls the School of Resentment, always a chip on his shoulder; rude toward the others, yet almost obsequious toward Josh, the group’s leader.

Between Jude and Rocky, it might be a toss, a toss-up which of the two you find more off-putting, this dour cold fellow Jude, who barely nods at you and really doesn’t even seem like part of the group -- or Rocky with his obnoxious braggadocio personality.

So, they gather, and as everyone sits down for supper, you sense a strange dichotomy in the room’s atmosphere. Most everyone is jovial, festive and oblivious, Rocky laughing louder and more overbearing than ever. Josh, though warm and gracious and obviously the host, seems preoccupied and even sad almost as though he knows something the others do not know. The young man sitting closest to Josh, who seems to be a special friend, is a local resident from a wealthy family, he did not come down on the bus, but most of the group seem to know him and apparently all of them were invited for supper at his elegant home last night. “A good feed” they’re saying, scrumptious, but from what you’ve overheard there was a lot of tension there too, as though something undefined is in the air.

Jacob and Ian the twins also are sitting close to Josh (you assume they’re twins, clearly they’re brothers). And most of these guys seem to be from the same town, maybe they all grew up together. 

Jude, who already paid the hotel manager for the meal, is up there too. But he’s not looking at Josh, keeping his eyes down, and he seems extremely nervous, fidgety, and even more grim than ever. 

And Rocky of course -- “The Rock” you heard someone call him sarcastically behind his back -- always putting himself at the center of things, what a schlemiel. What a blowhard.

Probably you should not have come. You can’t help noticing that Josh, who on the bus coming down was always so warm, now seems to be getting even more distracted, and almost depressed.

It’s a nice, traditional meal, roast lamb and the usual fixin’s. But as people are eating and conversing, you become aware of mumbling in the group around Josh, a low unpleasant murmur that grows angry and louder until Rocky shouts with his bravado, “Well, I’ll certainly never betray or deny you.” 

Instantly the room goes silent and everyone turns and looks their way. Furious, Jude jabs his knife down, sinking it into the table, leaves the knife, jumps up in a rage, and storms out of the room, a look of murderous hatred on his face. Sadly watching Jude leave, Josh turns to Rocky and quietly says something to him, something that seems to be correcting, and that upsets him enough to stop his bragging. 

Suddenly self-consciously aware of yourself as a guest, an outsider at what turns out to feel more like a family reunion gone bad than a festive celebration, you realize it’s time for you to excuse yourself and take your leave.

You rise to go, and as you quietly thank those around you, you notice Josh has stood up peacefully as though everything’s alright, yes everything’s alright, yes everything’s fine, and it’s cool ...  and he’s not surprised by any of this. He’s holding an unbroken loaf of bread and beginning to speak softly.

As every head turns to look at Josh, you quietly slip out the door and with great relief join the crowd of folks in town for the festival. Walking down the street into the throng, you quickly forget about Josh and his strange friends, glad you’ll never see or hear of them again. If they get too boisterous, the authorities will take care of them.

The fireworks are just starting. And you look up and watch the excitement in the heavens above. It’s a lovely evening in Salem, not a cloud in the night sky, nothing to mar the celebration. You thank God that you are here. Tomorrow will be a wonderful day, a Passover to remember. 

Homily in HNEC, 32401 Maundy Thursday evening, 20150402

The Reverend Tom Weller (Retired)